dwelling of his uncle. It was situated in the midst of the most romantic scenery, and its avenue was marked by a profusion of bright and fragrant flowers. Towards the right, half-hidden by the trees, stood the ancient village church. But Charles had scarcely time to admire the beautiful prospect which was unfolded to his gaze, ere the glad sound of an affectionate welcome met his ear, and the warm pressure of his uncle's hand assured him that he was among friends. Nor was his aunt's reception less cordial; and there was a gentleness in her manner, and a kindness in her tone, which reminded Charles of his mother. Refreshment had been prepared for the young traveller; and every thing was done in that thoughtful and easy way which makes a person at once feel that he is at home.

Charles retired early to rest, as he was rather fatigued with his journey, but he did not leave the family circle, until the mercies of the day had been gratefully acknowledged, and the preserving care of their heavenly Father during the hours of darkness and of slumber had been earnestly sought.

The sweet singing of the birds, and the noisy, but cheerful, sounds which issued from the adjoining farm-yard, awoke Charles at an early hour the next morning to the delightful consciousness that he was really in the country, He threw open the window that he might enjoy the fresh morning air, and the sight of a large old fashioned garden, induced him to dress as quickly as possible, that he might have time to take a stroll in it, and examine its manifold beauties before breakfast. Charles was soon joined there by his uncle, and much lively and cheerful conversation ensued between them, which was resumed when they met Mrs. Hamilton at the breakfast-table.

The rest of the day passed very pleasantly, and Charles was half surprised that he had not felt at all dull with such religious people as his uncle and aunt. He had always imagined that religion was inseparable from gloom and austerity; and the service of God, instead of being "perfect freedom,” was in his estimation a dull routine of formal observances, and a self-imposed renunciation of pleasure. But in Mr. Hamilton's family, the Christian character wore a lovely and attractive appearance, for Mr. Hamilton embodied in his own private life the truths which he so earnestly inculcated from the pulpit. His amiable disposi

tion and prepossessing manners gained the love and confidence of all who came within reach of their influence; and his cheerful smile threw a perpetual sunshine on all around. It was impossible to be long in his society, and yet retain the impression that religion was a gloomy thing.

Charles's prejudices against religion were gradually softened, not by argument or persuasion, but by the gentle and unobtrusive influence of Christian example. "Nothing speaks so loudly as the silent eloquence of a holy, consistent, and lovely life.” How delightful it would be if Christians were more anxious to adorn," as well as to profess, the doctrines of God their Saviour.

It happened one morning as Charles was busily engaged in arranging the books in his uncle's library, that he met with a small Bible in rich but antiquated binding, and on carefully unclosing its silver clasp, he found that it had been the gift of his mother to Mr. Hamilton; and he looked with deep interest on the small, neat handwriting, and the simple expressions of love which marked the first page. How valued are the most trifling memorials of a loved and departed friend!

"What have you found so attractive there, Charles?" inquired Mr. Hamilton, who was reading by the opposite window, "pray tell me the title of that tiny volume, which has absorbed your attention for the last five minutes." "Surely," added he playfully, "it cannot be one of my ancient volumes,' which you said looked as if they were printed before the deluge?"

"Oh no! uncle," replied Charles, smiling, those venerable productions possess no charms for me;" and then, in a graver tone, he said, as he passed the book to his uncle, "it is a Bible, uncle, a Bible with my mother's writing in it."

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Hamilton, as the glow of a bright train of recollections lighted up his features, "this was a birthday gift from my dear sister. We were both young then, but I was giddy, careless, and self-willed, while Lucy was mild, amiable, and thoughtful, and always striving to make those around her happy. This Bible was bought with her long-hoarded pocketmoney, and I can remember the sweet smile with which she gave it to me, and the tones of affectionate persuasion which she used to induce me to study its hallowed pages. 'You will read a

verse or two every day, will you not, dear Charles?' she said, 'promise that you will for my sake;' and I did promise; for the splendid exterior of the volume, and the gentle pleadings of my sister, made me willing at that moment to do what she asked; and every right principle and feeling which I now possess may be gratefully traced to the perusal of her valued present. I read it at first, partly because I was proud of my handsome volume, and partly, that I might fulfil my promise; but I afterwards perused it from other and better motives; and that word 'which is able to make man wise unto salvation, through faith which is in Christ Jesus,' led me, I trust, to remember my Creator in the days of my youth, and to consecrate myself to his service. You will not be suprised then, that my sister's precious gift was from that time one of my most cherished treasures, not on account of its outward adornment, but because of the rich blessings which it had been the medium of imparting to me. It was my companion at school and at college; and often while I have mused over its sacred pages, I have thanked God for that happy moment when it was first put into my hand, by a beloved sister. I do not mean that I had never before seen the Bible, but I certainly had not read it, except as my regular Sunday lesson, for my parents were personally unacquainted with its value, and they had not taught me to love its simple and beautiful histories ; and when I grew older I seldom opened its leaves. It was Lucy, who by her acceptable present, persuaded me to devote my attention to its long-neglected truths; and they have proved a guide in perplexity, a solace in affliction, and an unfailing source of enjoyment."

Charles listened with interest and delight to his uncle's simple narrative, for what theme is so dear to the heart of a child, as the praises of a fondly-loved parent?

"You often remind me of your mother, Charles," continued Mr. Hamilton, "your features bear so striking a resemblance to hers, especially when you smile; oh! may you be also like her, in her humility, love, and self-denial, and in her early devotedness to God. Will you not, dear Charles, tread in the same bright path, and resolve in the bloom of youth to love and obey that Saviour who was the object of her faith and affection?” C. C.

(To be continued next month.)

ORIGINAL LETTER FROM REV. JOHN NEWTON.*

MY DEAR SISTER IN THE LORD, †-I thank you for your letter: hope it did me good; and therefore, I write once more. If the Lord prolongs your life to receive this, may he accompany it with his blessing, while you read it, and put something into my thoughts while I am writing, which may afford you comfort.

But if he has called you home, you will be no loser by going before my letter can reach you. I can but offer you, as it were, a spoonful or two of the water of life, in a broken earthen vessel, which you will not want when you are removed to the Fountainhead, where you shall drink and thirst no more.

I understand that your bodily afflictions are unusually great, that you are never free from sharp pain, and are quite unable to help yourself; but our Lord and Saviour bears you up so much above these trials, that it seems you think them as trifles not worth mentioning, for you have not said a word about them in your letter.

The earthly mortal

I am still favored with perfect health, but as I am in my seventy-third year, I may soon expect (if I am not taken away suddenly) to feel the infirmities of old age. tabernacle is seldom taken down gradually without painful feelings to the flesh: should it be so with me, I hope I shall think of you, and be thankful that I ever heard of your case.

It affords me an additional proof of what I hope I do believe, and often declare from the pulpit,—that our Lord and Saviour is all-sufficient. I cannot doubt but if it was his pleasure, and for

* We are sure that this affecting, beautiful, and characteristic letter will be read with much pleasure, and we hope profit, by our young friends. It so sweetly teaches the uses of adversity, as to shut us up to the conclusion of the Psalmist, that it is indeed "good to be afflicted;" whilst to those who are exempted from the fiery trials incident to humanity, it reads as sweet a lesson of gratitude and praise.-ED.

This letter was addressed to Janet Ramsay, a poor woman residing at Leith: and has been kindly forwarded to us by the respected daughter of the lady, who, when very young, "visited her daily, read to, and wrote for her; and it is believed, conducted the short correspondence with Mr. Newton," of which this letter is a specimen.

Janet Ramsay, during a long and excruciating illness, arising from cancer, displayed so much of the grace of God, as attracted considerable notice in the neighbourhood of her residence, notwithstanding the humble character of her circumstances.-ED.

his glory, that we should sit with our feet in boiling water, He could and He would enable us to bear it patiently; provided He enables us to put our full trust in Him, and to be wholly submissive to his will. He has said, "As thy day is, so shall thy strength be;" and His word is sure. He has cordials which are not the daily food of his children when they are in ease and prosperity; He reserves them for the day of trouble, and then, they cannot only endure afflictions with patience, but rejoice, yea glory in them. (Rom. v. 3.)

Though I have preached many sermons in my time, and published several books, I still find it more easy to teach others than to teach myself.—If the Lord was strict to mark what is amiss, how often and how justly might I be condemned out of my own mouth, or by what I have written with my own hand? I am still a poor sinner-a sinner believing in the name of Jesus.

I am now aiming to learn a lesson which you seem to have attained before me,-to devote, entrust, and resign myself and my all, into the faithful, gracious, and strong hands of Jesus my Saviour, without any 'Ifs," "Buts," or Reasons ;-to receive every thing, whether bitter or sweet, as from Him-to look upon all creatures, whether they smile or frown, as only instruments of his will, which can give me neither pleasure nor pain, but as he permits them;-to do every thing for his sake, and as in his sight; to be willing to live a hundred years longer if He would have me; and be glad to go while the pen is in my hand, if He should please to call me. I desire to have no wish or choice of my own, but to refer every thing to his good pleasure, and to follow him with simplicity like a blind child, who can neither stand alone, nor see the next step before him, and must therefore be both supported and guided all the way.

What I have not yet acquired by age and experience, the Lord has taught you in the school of affliction. How you and I differ! Since the removal of my dear wife, in the year 1790, I have scarcely met with any thing that deserves the name of a trial: I have been a stranger to sickness or pain; I have peace and comfort in my family life, many friends around me, liberty in my public service, and a numerous, attentive, and affectionate congregation; with good reason to hope that the Lord accom